


shining like the sun

by IceisAwesome



Series: miscellanea [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Elia Martell Lives, Elia Martell and Rhaegar Targaryen Never Married, Elia Martell-centric, Essos, F/M, POV Elia Martell, POV Multiple, POV Ned Stark, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27549310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceisAwesome/pseuds/IceisAwesome
Summary: An inconvenient love between a princess and a second son disrupts carefully laid plans.Written for the asoiafrarepair blog prompt "Ned x Elia, before Lyanna and Rhaegar could even dream of eloping, a princess and second son are already eloping to Essos with the help of Oberyn."
Relationships: Elia Martell/Ned Stark
Series: miscellanea [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013757
Comments: 5
Kudos: 153
Collections: ASOIAFrarepairs Promptfills





	shining like the sun

The prince is kind and gentle, as gallant as the finest of knights.

Elia cannot stand the thought of marrying him, never mind that mother has already signed the betrothal contract.

Not when her children would wed another, not when the mere thought of brother bedding sister makes her stomach churn in disgust. Not when everyone in the capital knows King Aerys is mad, just as everyone at court knows he abuses Queen Rhaella, marks her flesh with scabs and scars and makes her scream.

Elia cannot bring herself to pretend to accept her own children bedding another, just as she cannot bring herself to believe the gallant prince won’t turn mad like his father.

In truth, her disgust and her fear are not truly why she hates the thought of marrying the prince.

Mother would cluck and tell her alliances are far more important than girlish feelings, Doran would look at her with pity in his eyes, Oberyn would do something foolish if he knew.

But she cannot help it, Elia wants to cry, cannot help falling into a love that burns like the sun her family has taken as their sigil.

She loves Ned, just as he loves her in return.

* * *

“You love him,” it is a statement, not a question, when Oberyn corners her, something sharp glinting in his eyes.

“Of course I love-” Elia starts, but her little brother shakes his head, stepping closer.

“You love Ned Stark.”

Her little brother is a fool to speak so plainly, a fool to say the truth in the cesspit of King’s Landing, but Elia nods all the same.

“You should be happy,” he declares, sounding so assured, sounding so _innocent_ , and she merely smiles sadly.

* * *

Ned suggests it, after they sneak away from the betrothal feast. It is reckless, it is dangerous, and yet Elia still takes his hand as they sneak to a long abandoned room.

“Run away with me,” her wolf says suddenly, hand reaching out to clutch at her own.

She stills at that, lips still warm with stolen kisses.

“What?”

“Run away with me,” he says-no, he pleads. “To Braavos, to Pentos, to Lorath. Somewhere we won’t be followed, somewhere we can be happy. Without our families to tear us apart, without the dragons to take you away.”

It is utter madness to consider such a thing. And yet-

Elia thinks of a life spent shackled to the dragon prince, of a life in King’s Landing with her love so far away, trapped in his castle in the dreary North.

* * *

Oberyn is eager to help, at least after he overcomes his shock.

Her little brother laughs at their request, loud and delighted when he realizes their intent is serious, loud and delighted as he distracts mother when they run from the keep.

Oberyn meets them at the docks, a black mourning veil wrapped around her long hair, a stolen hat pulled over Ned’s grey eyes.

Elia expects her brother to warn Ned, to threaten him, to say he’ll do anything for his sister’s safety.

But Oberyn’s face is soft when he gazes at her wolf and softer still when he turns to catch his sister’s eyes.

“Oberyn-”

“You love him, Elia,” Oberyn says as he bends to kiss her cheek, dark eyes shining, “that is worth far more than a Targaryen marriage, no matter what mother might say.”

“Are you ready?” Her wolf asks as they board the ship, as she reaches out and tangles her hand in his.

Elia smiles so wide it hurts, so wide it feels as though her face might crack.

“Always, my love.”

* * *

The people of Westeros will tell stories of the sun and her wolf, of the lovers that stole away in the night. They will whisper of how the mad king raged and the dragon prince searched tirelessly for his runaway bride.

Some say Lord Lannister smiled at the news, already eager to offer his own daughter yet again. Some claim the princess of Dorne wept for the shame her daughter brought upon their house, yet others say those tears were driven by joy.

Ned does not know these stories when they wake, when Elia presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth before shrugging her dress on in the dawn light. 

She loves him, just as he loves her.

As the sun rises in a free city, Ned knows that is enough.


End file.
